


Wolves and Lions.

by NikolayArlovskiy



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, Incest, Romance, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:23:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27169267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikolayArlovskiy/pseuds/NikolayArlovskiy
Summary: They are representatives of the greatest houses of Westeros. In their blood flows the oldest blood of the first people and the Andals themselves. The Lady of Casterly Rock had an excellent reputation, enormous ambitions, and untold reserves of gold. Stark had only endless thirst in her power. What a pity that once one could quench the other's thirst.
Relationships: Cersei Lannister/Lyanna Stark, Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen
Kudos: 2





	Wolves and Lions.

Cersei Lannister always saw herself sitting on the throne, and the power in her hands was, of course, not limited at all. Power without borders, all the land in her personal possession, the lords who see her as the ruler, the girl who looks at her from the depths of darkness with empty, corroded eye sockets.

The Queen would Wake up in the middle of the night, almost screaming. The eternal knight – her brother-bursts into her recently empty chambers. Cersei is in no hurry to tell him about the constant nightmares, only blood-stained lips whisper a barely discernible prayer to nonexistent gods, and her hands shake in search of blissful Dornish wine. The woman seems quite calm after a dirty, hard coitus with ser Lannister, and her mind is in an acrid fog after drinking.

Lannister was afraid. She smelled of hysterical terror and endless longing, and Cersei could hear the cursed stark's every breath, feel her through space and time, even though she was dead. Maybe someday Cersei will stop seeing the shadow of a dead wolf.

Lyanna Stark was the rarest whore Westeros had ever seen. They were worth a good search, even in the well-known brothels across the Narrow sea. Cersei didn't even remember the circumstances of their first meeting, Lannister remembered only her stupid manner of deliberate fun and for some reason always bored cold eyes. In short, Cersei Lannister preferred to ignore a person like stark. Or rather, she preferred to think so, because in fact, the girl from the far North was the only one who was so conspicuous. And when silly appeared at the side of the dragon Prince, always cooing about something next to him, Lannister wanted to put the strongest poison in the Cup of wine from which stark drank. Cersei did not understand why everyone found this savage blooming beauty, and her behavior suitable for the high society of the Seven Kingdoms.

The young lioness had never seen Lyanna Stark in a serious mood, even when circumstances demanded it. The wolf often smiled, especially when there were any fights related to her. While they were fighting for the girl, she was laughing with an infectious sound, causing even Cersei herself a barely noticeable grin.

Lannister was very surprised when this vile girl approached her at another feast within the walls of Harrenhal. Stark must have been waiting for her all evening until the many suitors left and Lannister's own father stepped aside. The wolf sat down impudently next to Cersei. Cersei arched a questioning brow as she waited for the northerner's next move, which, to be honest, they didn't have much to talk about.

— I need a favor. Many say that the equerry of the king's hand has full access to the stables of this castle. As a good lady, I'm not allowed to ride. Perhaps you will influence Lord Lannister and give me access to the stables. Will you do me a favor, Cersei? – Lyanna breathed out, looking directly at Cersei.

Of course, what else did this savage woman care about besides the stables and horses that Lord Stark had rightly forbidden her access to? Lannister made a disgusted face, and then looked at the wolf, not hiding her disdain at all. Cersei didn't want to have any contact with Stark, and she certainly didn't want to have anything to do with her. She couldn't stand Lyanna.

— No, – Lannister said. 

Then, with a rustle of the full skirts of her scarlet dress, Cersei walked away. Lyanna just smiled lazily as she watched the lioness's actions.

Since that ill-fated day, Lannister has been unlucky enough to be the object of stark's constant attention. Lyanna innocently began to greet her every time, while Cersei, in the constant presence of the company of old matrons and chaperones, gritted her teeth with annoyance, was even forced to conduct a conversation with the northerner. The lioness could literally feel the heavy gaze of the smiling stark on her skin, wherever she was. Her beloved Jaime cursed when he found that Cersei wasn't listening to him at all, oblivious to the presence of the young man, or anyone else who wasn't annoying Stark. From this obsession, the lioness was saved only by her ambition. The search for unlimited power often forced us to return to reality, to twist like a snake in a variety of situations.

Lyanna might have given up trying to ride her mount around the area, but the attention she paid to Cersei didn't diminish. Cersei caught her studying her in the daylight corridors, during frequent tea parties, and in the castle halls late at night. One day, Lannister didn't have enough patience and she snapped away while learning arithmetic, feeling the observation from the upper corridor, where the gallery was located. Cersei, when no one could see her, pulled up her skirts and ran to where she thought Stark was hiding.

Trying to control her rapid breathing, Lannister ducked into the gallery, which was bathed in the late afternoon light. The girl found stark triumphantly, holding back the last of her strength from attacking her right there. To think that at this moment, the perfect Lannister was no better than the savage Stark.

— I know you're watching me, stark. You're up to something... – Lannister hissed, getting closer to the wolf.

— What are you, Cersei? – Lyanna smiled softly as she moved closer to the lioness, blocking out the refractive light.

In this position, Stark, surrounded by the halo of the setting sun, looked like the virgin herself-the personification of purity and beauty. She was as tall and statuesque as Lannister herself, with thick, glossy, almost black hair on her head, and a charming smile on her neat face. How deceptive that impression was, how deceptive this stark was. Cersei is internally cooled. His mouth was dry and his ears were ringing, and it was really just the two of them. Who will come here at this hour? I wanted to show Stark her place, but cold calculation took its toll. Lannister could only purse her lips in disdain.

— If you want to do something, never think about the consequences, otherwise nothing will happen... – Lianna sang easily.

Cersei clenched her hands into fists. The wolf seemed to read her mind. Stark smiled again, not at all friendly this time, but more like a snarl.

— Get out of here, – Lannister said firmly.

— I'd love to, but I don't have anyone to hang out with today, and you're a good candidate, – the wolf whispered in Cersei's ear. Stark was uncomfortably close and behaved no better than a streetwalker. The insolent words were enough to make Lannister feel feverish. Cersei wasn't quite sure what had caused it yet.

— I'm not someone to play with in Cyvasse, even Robert can't! – Stark exclaimed too loudly now, sounding like an offended child.

— I think I'll have more important things to do than play games, – Lannister lied quite calmly. Increasingly irritated by the wolf's ambiguous behavior, she seemed to be probing the ground, trying to figure out what to do with Cersei and what not to do. But Lannister wouldn't be herself if she didn't immediately discover these ridiculous tricks.

— We will play for wishes, if the victory is yours, you can make whatever you want, – Lyanna promised. 

Cersei chuckled. Yeah, what could be better than playing in the evenings with stark in Cyvasse. And then, realizing that this way, by playing once, she could rid herself of the wolf's company,Cersei scowled. For some reason, the soul was unpleasant, and Lannister, of course, agreed to play.

Needless to say, the ever-beautiful, haughty, long Golden curls and emerald eyes, perfect to the point of indecency – Cersei, played this damned game that no one but Stark needed? Lannister had been sitting there for an hour, not knowing how to win when there were only three pieces left on the field. Stark watched the lioness, savoring the sweet taste of victory on the tip of her sharp tongue. The northerner's dragon mercilessly eats the last heavy rider Cersei has left. Lannister looks at Stark, finding her at this very moment too predatory with soulless eyes the color of steel.

— Let's go, – Stark says, casually swinging a Cup of red wine in her hands.

— I'm not going out with you in the middle of a late night, – Cersei would say firmly, despite the fact that she was extremely curious to watch the wolf.

— This will be my wish! – Lyanna explained, putting on her ever-cheerful smile.

The wolf held out her hand to lead her away. Lannister obediently put her hand in response just because of the fact that those were the rules of the last game. She could have easily broken them, but for some reason she didn't want to upset Stark.

Cersei cursed Lyanna a million times as they left the courtyard of Harrenhal, riding a Bay stallion at the speed of the wind into the night. After all, the wolf had gained access to the stables, and Cersei didn't want to think about exactly how she'd managed it.

Stark was an excellent horsewoman: the wildly wilful horse under her guidance became so docile that it was impossible to ask for better. However, this did not cancel out the soil that had been decently washed away after a series of showers and then thunderstorms, and hundreds of merchant carts were now stuck on the same roads. The whole air seemed electrified, waiting for the thunder to roll. They were still going nowhere, but now they were deep in the fields, the grass rustling pleasantly. Lannister vowed to strangle Stark.

The horse reared, forcing Cersei to cling to the wolf, her arms wrapped around the girl's slender waist. When Lannister opened her closed eyes, she found Lyanna breathless, but happy to the limit. Cersei saw a she-wolf with a soiled dress that was torn here and there, her hair extremely disheveled, but still a very happy Lyanna.

— I'm afraid to guess why you brought me here, – Lannister concluded when she found herself in the middle of a wide field dotted with crickets. — But I'll tell you in advance the castle knows about my absence! – she continued quite loudly, shivering a little from the cold that had gripped the entire area.

— I've noticed that you haven't been in the mood lately, – Lyanna said indifferently, with a great interest in studying one's own in the end ruined dress.

— And? – the lioness asked, annoyed at Stark's odd way of speaking in fragments.

— You have only to look at the night sun, dotted with myriads of stars, Cersei, and everything will pass!

Cersei can only hear the sound of her laughter, and then the wolf drags her into the whispering grass. Lannister wants to be outraged, wants to be away from stark, but instead she and the girl admire the endless, perfect sky, deeply spitting on human problems and the many vices of the world. At this moment, the proud, often arrogant Cersei wanted to be quiet, taking in all the beauty of this night, which, to be honest, made her heart ache. She no longer notices the absurdity of the situation in which she finds herself, she no longer wants to go back there, back to the warmth, to the castle. Cersei surreptitiously notices that stark drinks a lot and laughs. There was a promise of tenderness in every graceful movement and fleeting touch of Lyanna Stark. The wolf was fabulously good. However, for this unacceptable liberty, Lannister wants to trample her into the ground a hundred times more, leaving only unbearable lust.

It seems that the false spring came that year, with its early shoots of wildflowers, with streams breaking through, no matter what, from under the thick mud and slops. It is this spring that her dragon Prince, the hope of something more than a diminished title of lady, admires Lyanna Stark, talks to her much more often than court etiquette would require. Cersei often doesn't take her burning gaze off these two, and now she doesn't understand who she wants to tear to shreds anymore. But Lannister is sure that others will do it for her-the pugnacious as well as the drinker, Baratheon, the Royal Targaryens, the often rebellious Martells, the cold Starks, and finally hundreds of other great houses of Westeros.

Cersei sees only her again, only this time stark's dark hair is wrapped in a wreath of blue roses, as if it belongs there. All Lannister knew for sure was that she was the lioness of Casterly Rock, the true Queen of Beauty and Love, of the Seven Kingdoms, none other. After all, it was the beauty of Cersei that every bard sang about, and it was sung in many ballads that inadvertently mentioned unrequited, completely eternal love.

We didn't have to wait long, and the same evening, when the wolf was crowned with a lousy wreath, a huge scandal broke out. The Starks, who blindly believed in Lyanna's unblemished honor, were the first to rage, the fools. The northerners were so swaggering and proud that they almost left the tournament. And Baratheon was so proud of the bride's honor that he swore and shouted at every step that if anything happened, he would personally disembowel anyone who dared to touch stark. And Lyanna, the amazing Lyanna with wide-open innocent eyes, led everyone by the nose, thinking only of her own freedom. Lannister had learned long ago that people like stark only looked for one thing, instilling it in others, laughing along the way.

— There, at the end of the world, before the dawn comes, Cersei, freedom awaits us, – Stark chimes in, once again catching Lannister on the way to the Sept.

The lioness is infuriated by such antics, especially now it is undesirable to communicate with Lyanna, she is about to get involved in scandals. Cersei didn't understand stark from the word at all, where did the future lady Baratheon see freedom? Was this ever-drunken stag going to give her freedom? The idea of Baratheon doing somersaults with stark at night made me laugh. Cersei was sure that the wolf would rather bite his throat out.

However, with each new day after the betrothal, the wolf's wedding was approaching. With each passing day, Lannister found Lyanna Stark looking at her more wistfully, painfully sad. Cersei, in turn, curls her lips in disdain and pours more wine, sinking into the abyss of relaxation, where obsessive thoughts about stark are sure to pop up. And Lyanna grabbed Lannister's hand again and again, laughing and smiling like a madwoman. Cersei resists until she realizes that the wolf is driven by a desperation that is pressing from within. The lioness herself does not notice the moment when she begins to enjoy Lyanna and her despair, now haunting stark. She was whispering to Cersei, now playing with the Golden swirl of her hair, now looking away. Cersei, meanwhile, was consumed by a raging drunken lust.

— Dirty bitch, – Lannister breathed out with feeling, looking at the naked wolf, whose body burned with recent traces of love. In response, stark smiled with her venomous red lips, again swollen from relentless love.

They finally let us find each other. It turned out that both were as depraved and vile in their desires as they were beautiful in the rays of the deceptive spring sun. Only once, as always, stark got tired of everything around her. Again the immortal thirst, again the dreams of a certain freedom.

— We will definitely meet again, – Lyanna promises Cersei as she departs back to the North.

Then, without waiting for an answer, Stark fluttered out into the courtyard, where the rest of the Stark family was waiting for her. Lannister is not going to hide his triumph, she is now also smiling. The wolf would not bother her, nor would her deliberate gaiety. On the same day, as if she'd forgotten about Stark, Lannister was lost in business, in alcohol, in debauchery, in everything that wasn't Lyanna. The she-wolf flew away easily, taking with her the remnants of the false spring, bringing rivers of blood, turning the whole old world upside down. But Cersei didn't know it yet, making eyes at the mad Prince as she danced the last dance in the fading lights of the castle.

How many of them were there, ready to end the Valyrian dynasty, who had previously sworn allegiance? Baratheons, Starks, Arryns, Tully – the most striking of the recalcitrant, do not forget that there were many more dissatisfied with the policy of the mad king. Fire burned everywhere: to the South, in the Riverlands, Storm's end was torn to shreds. Fate was decided on the map of the Seven Kingdoms because of the whims of Lyanna Stark. Stark must be touching the weathered lips of the dragon Prince who ran away together, and the laughter and triumph of fate will not stop. The young lioness is left to wait for the right moment for a suitable jerk.

The Lannisters are the richest and most powerful House in Westeros. When even these cunning, devious Lannisters sided with the Usurper, it became clear to the Seven Kingdoms that the Targaryens were dying out. The Prince died a brave death on the Trident at the hands of Baratheon, the weak and feeble dragons fled to Dragonstone, and the capital waited for mercy. The Red castle, once great and now awaiting further orders from the mad king, held out the longest. Again, there were Lannisters in the Red keep. When Cersei finally realized how close they were to the throne with the murder of the king and the accession of the new one named Baratheon, she felt pitiful to herself. Her future husband was the same Baratheon who had dreamed of a wolf that she had shamelessly played with until stark got tired of it. As it turned out later, stark got tired of living. But Cersei Lannister didn't care who cared, with the crown resting on your Golden curls and the people of the Seven Kingdoms cheering. Cersei has a faint grin on her lips, and behind her are the subordinate vassals, the subordinate people. Only now behind very quietly heard a ringing laugh.

— Is this how you imagined our meeting, Stark? – Cersei asks contemptuously of a lone statue, finely carved from solid stone.

The Queen stood proudly in the middle of the crypt of Winterfell, where silent tombs and statues of kings and lords of the North rose everywhere. It was absurd to see Lyanna alive in the midst of all this grandeur, and Lannister thought she might hear Stark's soft voice, and then Stark would drag her away with her, chattering merrily. Cersei hated herself for these moments of obsession, which became more frequent every year. Lannister was reminded again and again of the image of a sharp and predatory young girl with frozen eyes. This image is firmly ingrained in my memories.

Cersei started violently as a rustle echoed through the dead silence of the crypt. Her burning eyes searched feverishly for the source of the sound, and she drew her cloak, which was covered with the most expensive furs, closer and closer around her. But there were only statues in sight, and Cersei couldn't help but look at the statue of Lyanna again. Stark, who had destroyed all the years of her Union with Baratheon, who had stolen the dragon Prince, who had spat on everything, was eating away at every inch of her soul. It's a pity, of course, that after all these years, Lannister has no soul left.


End file.
